Explosive

02 || Detective Glenda

~ This chapter is dedicated to IamAnUnknownPerson for the wonderful banner.

It's cold. Pulling the blanket up to my nose, I wiggle my toes in an attempt to warm myself. My eyelids feel heavy but I manage to drag them open and scan my room. The curtain is pulled across the window, letting in little light into the white room. The room is not mine. "Mom?" I murmur and try to sit up. A sharp pain shoots up my left leg, making me wince.

"Audrey?" a voice says beside me. Fingers wrap around my stiff arm. An unfamiliar hand finds its way into mine.

"Where's my mom?" I ask patiently, trying to blink away the fogginess. My head is throbbing and it feels as if there is a giant boulder on my chest. Everything is hazy. Images are blurring together to form something akin to an abstract painting in my mind.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. She's back in Oakville," the woman says quietly, wringing her hands together.

Confusion falls over me. What did she mean? Where am I? "What do you mean?" Closing my eyes, my mind becomes flooded with images of my mom's face. "Where's my mom?" The woman takes in a sharp breath and tries to wrap her arms around me. I push her away, feeling awkward at her forwardness. I know my mom's okay. She has to be.

"Audrey, your mom was killed during the robbery. She's not here."

"Mom," I whisper. That's when the events hit me like a strong wind. Rather, like a slap. I remember my mom's cold hand as I saw the light fade away from her eyes. "My mom's gone?" I struggle to breathe as my throat closes up. It's as if saying it out loud makes it real, more than just a nightmare.

I will never hear my mom's musical laughter or see her warm eyes, watching my every move. My mom moving her head to some old song or falling asleep on the couch are now just distant memories.

"It's my fault." I should have stayed quiet; I should have minded my own business. Maybe if I had, we would have been at home making hot chocolate and watching Captain America. My mom would be telling me about her day and how she wants only roses for her birthday.

"Honey, none of this is your fault," the woman says as she wraps her hand around mine. I wipe at my eyes and take a better look at the woman. A sob escapes my mouth when I see her eyes, my mom's eyes. The woman has dirty blonde hair that frames her pale and tired face. Her face is almost an exact replica of my mom's.

"Who are you?" I ask with a sniffle.

The woman gives me a sad smile before saying. "I'm Jane Collins, your mom's sister."

"My aunt?" I give her a nervous and dry smile. "My mom doesn't..." I pause and close my eyes, "Didn't have any siblings." I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees, ignoring the ache in my leg.

"I'm guessing she never told you about us," she says sadly, rubbing my back now. "I knew she was pregnant but after she left us, she fell off the face of the Earth." The woman -my aunt -rambles on but I'm not listening to her. An aunt? How come my mom didn't tell me she had a sister? Whenever the topic of family came up, she would say she was an only child and her parents were dead. Trying to block out my aunt's words, I think about my mom. This can't be happening. I don't have an aunt. My mom would never lie to me.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I mutter. "So sorry." Tears continue to slide down my cheeks but I don't bother to wipe them this time. "How come my mom never told me about you?" This woman is lying. I don't have an aunt. My mom would never lie to me. An empty feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, a rancid mix of sorrow and bitterness. Could my mom have lied to me about other things as well?